Better to Forget
by Mordra
Summary: The night the Barty Crouch Jnr. and Co. went to visit the Longbottoms. Unforgivable curses, Mrs Lestrange, and an explanation of sorts about Neville.


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Better to Forget

By Mordra

Authors note: Everyone and most things in this story belong to JKR, I just wanted to play with them for a while.

The baby giggled as his bottle spun in the air above him, his mother stepped into the room and gasped.

'Frank! Frank. Come and look.'

Frank Longbottom galloped into the room and stared and then laughed.

'Who's a clever little wizard then?' he said leaning over the cradle beside his wife.

The baby took his eyes off the bottle to look at his parents, then screamed ear-shatteringly as the bottle fell from the air and hit his head.

'It's okay Neville. It's okay...Sshh...Sshh.' Both parents crooned rocking the cradle soothingly until the screams turned to cries and the cries became gurgles.

'Nighty night Nevie.' Dora Longbottom smiled kissing his head as he blew bubbles with his spit.

'See you in the morning.' Frank Longbottom whispered. He waved his wand and the room dimmed, then both parents turned and crept towards the door.

Neville's attention had been drifting, but his eyes flicked over and noticed them leaving, his mouth opened and he began to yell again.

'Sshh Neville sshh beddy byes.' Dora whispered until the screaming abated. Neville grinned stickily, thumb in mouth and began to coo at a mobile made of real fairies flapping their iridescent wings above his bed.

Frank and Dora dropped to the floor and crawled towards the door, hidden below Neville's eyeline. He didn't notice them go and continued to make contented little noises, while they collapsed on each other outside, shaking with hushed laughter.

They wandered downstairs, arms wrapped around each other, her head on his shoulder. He swung her down the bottom step and dragged her into the living room pushing her on to a couch. She lay back and laughed at him.

'And what's this for darling?'

'I thought you could relax while I make dinner.'

'You're offering to make dinner! You must be feeling guilty about something.'

'Um...Well I ran into mother in town today.'

'And?'

'She's spending the weekend with us, she'll be arriving here tomorrow morning.'

Dora rolled her eyes 'But..'

'Darling I really don't see what's wrong with my mother.'

She snorted. 'Of course you wouldn't, they never did surgically detach you from her apron strings.'

'Ah..'

'I haven't finished yet Frank. I do like your mother, in small doses, but I also like a little bit more warning before she appears.'

'What's so wrong with her?'

'Nothing specific. She's just.... Overpowering.'

'Overpowering?'

'Yes.'

'Dora, she's just a little old lady.'

'A little old lady who knows rather a lot of hexes, and thinks I don't look after you or Neville well enough.'

He leant forwards and tilted her chin up towards him. 'Don't be stupid, she knows how happy you make me, and how well you look after her favourite grandchild.'

'Her only grandchild.'

'I promise you can go and hide if she gets too much for you.' he teased.

She pushed him away leant back and pouted at him. 'Aren't you supposed to be making my dinner.'

He pulled a face at her and walked to the kitchen.

She laughed, got up and pulled the curtains shut against the cold winter night, flicked on the radio, flopped back down onto the couch and started idly flicking through a copy of witch weekly.

_______________________________________________________

On the crest of a hill overlooking Attleborough four figures stood shivering in the icy air.

'Are you sure?' a thin nervous looking man demanded of the young reedy Bartemius Crouch.

'Yes, Frank Longbottom lives here, my father knows him, I've been to his house.'

The third thickset man murmured devoutly 'The Auror will tell us where our master has gone.'

'Indeed.' came the cold drawl of the dark haired woman who had been gazing at the village. She turned round, her breath hanging in the cold air. 'He will have no choice but to tell us.'

'But does he know?' the nervous man insisted.

She turned her heavily lidded gaze on him causing him to twitch. 'We won't know till we ask him, and that's what we're going to do now.'

The nervous man protested. 'But he's gone, defeated, and we're safe the ministry doesn't know about us...'

Her eyes flashed in rage while the other two stared at him open mouthed. 'He's not dead,' she spat at him, 'and if we find him he will reward us above all others.'

'But what about the ministry.'

'The ministry.' she made a derisive sound. 'The ministry that spent the last decade panicking trying to hide everything from the muggles. They didn't destroy him. The Potter child's lucky fluke didn't destroy him, his essence still survives. But you. You, who pledged your life to him, want to run and hide while he suffers in the void.'

'If we get caught...'

'Afraid of a few dementors Maurice. However did I manage to marry such a spineless fool.' 

He bristled and flushed red. 'You don't understand.'

'No, you're the one who doesn't understand,' she hissed at him, 'but if you don't want to do this, fine, leave, but don't ever come crawling back to me.'

He gazed at her determination. 'Fine, I'll do it then.' he surrendered.

She smiled sweetly at him like a little girl and grabbed his hands in hers. 'You're hands are so cold, Maurice.' she laughed. 'Cold hands warm heart.'

He smiled dumbly back at her holding tightly to the warmth of her own hands.

She turned her head to regard the others. 'Are you ready to do this?'

'Yes.' stuttered the boy, whilst the thickset man inclined his head in answer.

One side of her mouth twitched up amused. 'Very well,' she whispered, 'Gentlemen, let's pay a visit to the Longbottoms.'

_______________________________________________________

'Things seem so much quieter at the ministry now.' Dora sighed as she sipped her wine.

'Yes once You Know Who disappeared the death eaters just fell apart.' Frank gloated. 'Nothing left to hold them together.'

'I'm just glad I don't have to worry about you so much every time you get called out.'

He smiled and raised his glass. 'To Harry Potter.'

She raised hers. 'Harry Potter.' she repeated softly.

'Why so sad?'

'I was just thinking about Harry Potter, he's the same age as Neville isn't he. And he already has no parents because of that monster.' she looked fiercely protective.

'I'm sure his relatives are looking after him just as well as his parents did.' he reassured her.

'I suppose. So what time is your mother due tomorrow?'

'About...' 

The French windows shattered inwards in a rainbow of glass. 

Frank sprang to his feet fumbling for his wand but he was too slow.

A dark cloaked figure walked in drew his wand and snarled. '_Expelliarmus_.'

The power behind the curse flung Frank back against a wall forcing him to expel a pained breath, while his wand leapt from his hand and was caught by the death eater who looked at it for a second, then snapped it like a twig in his large hands.

A stunned Dora began to recover her senses and reached for her wand as she drew it out it was snatched from her hand by another taller cloaked figure who pocketed it' then stood menacingly at her side his own wand drawn and pointing at her. 

Two other had slipped in during the confusion and stood cloaked and masked regarding the Longbottoms.

One of them stepped into the light and in a young high voice said 'Hello Frank.'

Frank who had been slowly rising to his feet looked up at him a frown of recognition on his face as he worked out whom the voice belonged to.

'You...You're Barty Crouch's son. W-what are you doing with these people?' He looked horrified.

'Silence.' the boy snapped. 

'What we want Mr Longbottom,' said the wizard standing beside Dora, 'is for you to tell us where our master is.'

'You Know Who, I don't know where he is.' Frank said blankly.

'Liar.' screamed the boy at him. 'Tell us where he is.' 

'But I don't know.' Frank said 

'Perhaps this will help you remember.' the thin man standing by Dora hissed at him. He raised his wand.

'_Crucio_.'

'No! Stop it!' Frank yelled fighting to get to Dora as she fell from her chair howling and writhing in agony, but was beaten to the floor again by the thickset man. 

The thin man raised his wand and Dora's screaming was replaced by panting and whimpering.

'Are you ready to tell us yet?' asked the thin man coldly staring into Frank's hazel eyes.

'I don't know where he is.' Frank shouted at him, willing him to believe.

The wand dropped.

'_Crucio_.' 

Dora began to convulse on her back again staring desperately into Frank's face as the waves of pain hit her.

'I DON'T KNOW.' he yelled again.

'Shouting won't help.' the boy muttered as the curse was released again.

'Please...he....doesn't....know.' Dora panted in between long jagged breaths, tears of pain streaking her cheeks. 'Please just stop it.'

The death eater looked down at her like she was an unimportant insect, sneered slightly and again flicked his wand. '_Crucio_.' He watched with a slight smile on his face as the pain ran up and down her body, her face contracted in agony, as she took gasping breaths which stabbed with pain.

'Go ahead, Mr Longbottom.' he said calmly not taking his eyes from Dora.

'I don't know.' Frank said desperately, watching as the pain continued to bite into Dora and her screams became hoarse. 'Stop it please.' He begged.

'You know how to stop it, Mr Longbottom, tell us what the ministry knows. Where has he gone?' the death eater asked again raising his voice above Dora's ragged sounds.

'Please...I don't know.' Frank half sobbed. 'Leave us alone.'

Dora convulsed wildly and hit her head against the floor knocking herself out, as she slipped into unconsciousness her limbs ceased to twitch. 

'Oh dear.' said the thin death eater mildly. He smiled hideously, and flicked his wand saying.

'_Enervate._'

Dora's eyes flickered slightly and she moaned quietly but didn't move.

'I think you'd better tell us,' the death eater said softly to Frank, 'your wife doesn't look like she can take much more.'

'No she doesn't.' agreed a female voice from the doorway of the dinning room.

Frank's head turned sharply from the prone form of his wife to look at the fourth death eater who was cradling something in her cloak. She smiled at him disconcertingly.

'You have such a nice home.' she said inclining her head to gesture to the rest of the house. 'And look what I found.'

Frank palled as he realised the bundle in her arms was Neville.

'No.' he gasped. 'Leave him alone.'

'Tell us what we want to know then.' she said coolly holding Neville disdainfully.

'I can't. I don't know.' he repeated again trying to convince her.

Her cold black eyes regarded him from the depths of her bright white mask.

'You'll have to better then that.' she breathed, then lifted her wand and bore it down upon the baby and hissed. '_Crucio._'

'No.' Frank screamed as Neville made strange adult sounding cries of pain, while his tiny face grew red.

'Tell us.' the woman urged, watched by her compatriots, the youngest seemed especially fascinated.

Dora opened her eyes and caught sight of Neville wailing in the woman's arms. She made a high pitched moaning sound and began to sob.

'Tell us.' echoed the thin man smiling at the other death eaters and playfully flicking his wand at Dora.

'_Crucio._'

Her screams mingled with Neville's in a chorus of pain, which Frank cowered against pushing his hands against his ears trying to block it out. The thickset man shook him violently and he looked up tears forming in his eyes.

'Why are you doing this...I told you I don't know where he is...Stop it. Stop it.'

'I don't believe you.' the woman leant over spitting each word precisely into his face. 'But tell us where what's left of him is, and this can all stop.'

He lunged forwards trying to grab Neville away from her, but she skipped backwards out of his reach looked down at Neville, then looked back at him and laughed.

'You know,' she said conversationally, 'I've never tried this curse on such a young child before. I wonder what it will do to his little mind.' She cooed at the wildly wailing Neville, and smiled at Frank again.

'I don't know.' Frank sobbed rocking his body, which was drawn up into a fetal position.

'Well,' smiled the woman, 'we have all night to change that Mr Longbottom.'

_______________________________________________________

At precisely 10am the following morning Margaret Longbottom apperated onto the front porch of her son's house. She rang the doorbell and waited impatiently for the front door to be opened. When it didn't she tutted loudly glanced at her wristwatch then rolled her eyes. She caught sight of a patch of sky above the house and her eyes widened in shock.

The dark mark floated above the secluded house, transparent and beginning to fade, as though it had been hanging there for sometime.

She beat wildly on the door for a second then though better of it and reached for her wand.

'_Alohomora._'

The front door swung open with a creak and she slowly stepped inside.

'Frank...Frank...Dora.' she shouted as she padded nervously through the house. A door ahead of her banged on its hinges against the wall, and she felt a cold draft running past her legs.

She walked into the dining room and her hands flew to her mouth muffling a scream.

The dinner table stood in the middle of the room, perfectly set, an island of normality. On the floor beside it lay Dora her chest rising and falling slowly while her eyes stared unfocused at the ceiling

'Dora.' Margaret called slowly approaching her. Dora turned her vacant gaze towards her and flinched away in terror moaning. 

A twitching bundle cowering in the corner caught the corner of her eye and she turned away from Dora wringing her hands, which were shaking slightly. As she approached the bundle looked up and she realised it was Frank.

'Frank.' she said hesitantly reaching towards him.

'I DON'T KNOW.' He shouted at her, he stared at her without recognition. 'I don't know. Go away. Please.' he began to rock back and forth while tears poured down his face. 

Margaret felt matching tears begin to trickle down her own face. 'Frank,' she began softly, 'Frank where's...' 

She broke off as she spotted a small white mass partially hidden behind a chair. She shut her eyes for a second praying that it would be Neville and that he would be all right. She paced towards the white shape then drew quickly back cramming her fist into her mouth to block the deep moaning sound her throat was producing. The white mass was Neville. He lay tossed on the floor like a broken doll, his eyes were shut and his head leant at a strange angle. She leant towards him slowly and touched his face. Neville jerked to life and screamed as though her hand was a hot branding iron, flinching instinctively away from it.

Her tears began to drop heavily from her face, slightly blinding her as she clutched the screaming Neville to her chest and stumbled from the house.

__________________________________________________________

She sat icy white in the hospital clinging to a heavily sedated Neville, dark thoughts running through her head while the doctor talked. 

'Mrs Longbottom!'

She jumped and looked up at him with her tear-streaked eyes.

'Mrs Longbottom,' the doctor said sympathetically, 'as I was saying, your son and daughter in law were hurt badly I'm sorry I don't think they'll ever recover.'

'What does that mean?'

'They'll have to be institutionalised, cared for constantly for the rest of their lives.'

'There is no hope?' she asked in a monotone.

'I'm sorry.' He repeated avoiding her eyes. 

She stared at the wall blankly for a second mustering her thoughts. 'My grandson?' she asked still looking at the wall, clutching Neville compulsively.

'He was damaged badly by the attack too, but...'

'What.' she said fixing him with a glare.

'W-well,' said the doctor quailing under he fiery gaze. 'I and my colleagues agree that a full memory wipe, would be the best course to take at this point.'

She stared at him open mouthed. 'Doctor, I assume you are aware what a full memory wipe does to a person's mind.'

'Yes Mrs Longbottom, it removes all memories however painful, but also removes all personality and reduces them to the mental state of a newborn. It's disastrous and almost as bad as a dementor's kiss. But your grandson is so young that he could go back to being like a newborn, and it wouldn't matter.'

She gasped as hope flooded over her, but then checked it. 'And what would be the side affects, Doctor?'

'Well, Mrs Longbottom, developmentally his mental capacity and his motor skills will be about two years behind the rest of his age group, but he'll catch up with them eventually.'

'You mean he'll be clumsy?'

'Yes.' He nodded

'And a little slower than the other children.'

'Yes it may take him a bit longer to develop his magical powers. But nothing that would seriously disable him.' he coughed. 'Hmm, and like all people who've had strong memory charms put on them, he'll be rather forgetful.'

'Yes,' she nodded, 'but apart from he'd be normal?'

'Yes.' He smiled encouragingly at her.

She looked down and stroked Neville's head, then looked up at the doctor. 'I'd like you to do it then Doctor.'

'You're sure?'

'Yes.' She whispered smiling at her grandsons sleeping form. 


End file.
